Dean’s Massage and The EverChanging Spirit Oil
by ilikecrystals
Summary: Spirit Oil: releases inhibitions and secret desires. Mix with Dean's sore muscles and candlelight and it's a Wincest tale to remember! Slash. PLEASE REVIEW! Reviews make me very happy! Please be kind-it's my first story of this type
1. Chapter 1

**Rating:** R (MA)  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, These characters are Kripke's! I'm just a fan so please don't sue me.  
**Warnings:** Slash/Wincest - Under 18-PLEASE LEAVE NOW!

**Author's Note: **This is my first Wincest and being a hetero female, I'm struggling in lots of ways here so if I've made any glaring errors, please forgive my ignorance and try to look past them. I only wanted to show the brothers loving on each other. I hope you enjoy!

PM me if you want to send me suggestions on how I can improve my Wincest writing (or writing in general).

I love reviews and really want to know what you think of my story so please – hit the little button at the bottom

**Now, onto our feature presentation-**

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**The Beginning.**

The shaman stares into the fire, chanting in old tongue, stirring the liquid he holds in a spirit bowl, heating it in the flames. A warrior beats a drum behind, a low thump that matches the beat of his heart.

His sing-song voice ebbs and flows with the heat of the fire, the yellow and red fingers flickering towards the sky. Pebbles of herbs crushed in gnarled fingers are thrown into the bowl, sparks flashing as the oil boils and bubbles.

The drums louder now, images in the sky, the hawk, bear, lion and wolf are silhouetted behind the white hair and wrinkled, ancient face. Lightening flashes and the patter of rain can be heard surrounding them but the witch doctor remains dry, his voice rising over the sounds of night.

His hand reaches down to gather up the last, scattered at his feet, juniper, thyme, rosemary, mint, cedar, mixed with other spices and herbs, wood chips and pine needles. They are added to the pot and the brew is raised to the sky, invoking all the animal spirits to give their essence to the mix.

With a final cry, the drums pounding furiously now, the images in the sky twist together, a funnel cloud forming, swirling above the fire, above the boiling oil until they snap into the bowl and the liquid pops madly, roiling furiously until finally, calming, the surface now smooth as glass.

Silence fills the night.

The shaman pours the oil into a bottle, capping it tightly. Wordlessly, he hands it to the two brothers who have come to ask him this favor. The spirit oil will be used to cleanse the world of unholy evil and his Gods will be well pleased. The translator listens to the witch doctor, instructing the boys on how to use the oil. It comes with a warning-

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It will release spirits of the dead when used on the dead.

If touched to living flesh, the oil will reveal the hunger of the soul and the need will not be denied until it is fed, satiated, satisfied…

Neither brother remembers the warning.

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	2. Chapter 2

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The hunt had been difficult, physically and mentally demanding and after a hot shower, Dean still can't wind down. He paces around the room, circling Sam who's sitting on the bed, computer in lap, researching demonic signs to figure out their next destination. Fifteen minutes of Dean beating an oval around the room, body twitching with undisguised pent-up energy and Sam's had enough.

"Dude! What's up with you?"

Dean stops mid-stride and glares at Sam, "I don't know, just can't calm down, my body's friggin' wired and my mind won't stop racing…" He takes a deep breath and then another, trying to slow his frantic heartbeat, rubbing fingers around the back of his neck to work out some of the tension, "And my neck is so fucking stiff-"

Sam closes his laptop and gets up to put it on the table. Turning to his brother, he motions to a chair, "Let me, I mean, if you want, I can give you a massage or something - try to help you relax."

"What? Sam, no, I'll be ok, just need a few minutes is all. Maybe a beer or something."

"Dean, come on, it's already been more than a few minutes, and you're worse now than when we first came in. Let me try, ok? It won't hurt, I promise." Sam coaxes, patting the back of the chair invitingly.

With an exaggerated sigh, Dean turns the chair around and sits restlessly facing the back of it. Sam goes to rustles around in his duffle bag and comes out with a bottle of oil, used mostly for exorcisms and chants to release spirits, it's thick and scented and looks perfect for rubbing sore muscles. He walks over to stand behind Dean, "Dude, take off your shirt."

Dean pulls off his t-shirt, tossing it to one side. His fingers drum restlessly on the table top, one leg jumps up and down in nervous movement, "Hurry up, ok? It feels like my skin's crawling or something."

"Just try to relax-" Sam spills oil onto his palms and blows on it to warm it. The musky scent immediately fills his nose, making him a little lightheaded. He inhales, filling both lungs with the smell, woods, damp and dark, mossy dirt and sweet berries, curiously satisfying, awakening something inside him.

Nice…

He rubs his hands together, slicking the oil on his palms and reaches out to touch Dean's neck lightly, spreading the balm onto his brother's rigid neck and shoulders, his skin glistening in the overhead lights.

Another deep inhale fills Sam's head with the smell of wet cedar in the rain, causing a nervous excitement to bubble up from his loins, heat in his belly surging into his chest as he notices how firm and muscular Dean's back is and his arms, well, his arms are hard and bulging and-

Sam's mouth feels too full of spit suddenly. Confused, he shakes it off, concentrating on working his thumbs lightly into Dean's neck, muscles creaking under his touch.

Sam presses deep under the ears down to the collarbone, working the taut bands of tissue until he feels release, pushing his fingers into the base of Dean's skull, a low moan telling Sam he's hit a good spot. Sam works his brother's neck back and forth with the pads of his thumbs, one side and then the other, releasing the tension until Dean's head dips lower and becomes pliable beneath his hands.

Only when he can easily roll Dean's head from side to side does Sam move onto Dean's shoulders, pressing deep into his brother's rock hard muscles, enjoying the heat in his brother's skin, the rough smell of him and the groans he's making. Sam rolls the tight sinew in between his fingers, kneading roughly, moving rhythmically around Dean's shoulder blades, using knuckles to work the upper spine, pushing and pulling the knots out.

Dean slumps forward onto his arms, barely managing to stop his face from hitting the table, "Dude, that feels frigging awesome. That stuff you're using smells so _good-_"

"Dean, why don't you lay down so I can do the rest of your back? Your muscles are like rocks back here and I can't reach them with you sitting up."

Dean moves to the bed and starts to lie down when Sam's voice stops him, "Take off your jeans, why don't you? If you fall asleep, I can just throw a blanket on you."

Nodding, Dean unbuttons his jeans and slides down the zipper, pushing them down off his slim hips and kicking them away. He falls down on the bed hard, earning a _whump_ from the mattress, pulling a pillow under his chest so his head falls forward.

Sam doesn't know what the fuck's come over him. Someone else using his voice, using his body, told Dean to lie on the bed and to take off his pants and that same someone is now getting out candles, placing them around the bed, lighting them quickly before turning out the glaring overhead lights.

"Sam?" Dean questions lazily, the massage and the smell of the spirit oil making him drowsy and warm, unfocused, "What're ya doing?"

"Just making it dark so you can sleep better – it'll help relax you."

Sam climbs up onto the bed next to him, opening up the bottle of oil and letting it drip slowly onto Dean's back, a few drops at a time.

Sam licks his lips as he stares at the glistening droplets, flickering at him in the candlelight, suddenly wanting, needing to lick Dean's back clean and he feels himself actually move to do just that when he jolts himself backward with a whispered '_what the hell?_'.

Seems that oil is bringing out someone inside him he didn't even know was there - and that someone has the hots for Dean.

Setting the oil aside, he touches gently, using just his fingertips to swirl it over Dean's muscles, the heady fragrance of damp pine, green leaves and honeysuckle filling his nostrils. Now, the smells are changing, becoming _more_ somehow when mixed with Dean's own smell, making Sam's face flush in the dark, giving rise to half-formed thoughts of bodies writhing in passion, skin to skin…

Sam grits his teeth, fighting away the crazy thoughts, jerking his focus back to his brother. Slowly running his large hands from the small of Dean's back up to his shoulders, he spreads the oil over tan skin until his brother's back is slick with it. He uses his thumbs to push the muscles on each side of Dean's spine up and away, slowly, one vertebra at a time, working his way up to the top, then starting again from the hollow just above the crack of Dean's ass, pushing up and out with the muscles now, until Dean is groaning in pleasure.

He runs his fingertips along Dean's ribs, feather-like, so Dean feels just the barest whisper along his sides, not tickling but awakening, causing a flicker of excitement along the spine.

Sam digs deep into the big back muscles, feeling the knots under his palms, using his weight to push down into those tightened places, feeling them pop and give, then running his fingers slowly, almost sensuously over the same muscles, punishing and then caressing, until they're stretched, rested.

The scent of the oil, dense and lush, musky and wet, is doing something to Sam, ripping his inhibitions apart and clearing his mind, showing him what he wants, has wanted all along, showing him who he really is, and before he knows it, he's rubbing across the small of Dean's back gently, sweeping his hands in a circle, fingers splayed. With each swirl, he pushes Dean's underwear lower, lower, until finally, the swell of his brother's ass shows, the crack between peeking up at Sam in the semi-dark.

Sam catches his breath and pulls back his shaking hands, licking his lips, mesmerized by sight of Dean's nakedness, while Dean waits; strangely quiet, to see which path Sam will choose. Sam's heart starts to pound, becoming so loud in his own ears it's all he can hear until, decision made, he suddenly reaches out, putting one hand under Dean's hip and the other on his underwear. With a swift sure movement, he lifts up on Dean's hip and simultaneously pulls down the shorts, lowering Dean back onto the bed before his brother fully realizes what's happening. He yanks the shorts down Dean's legs, off his feet and tosses them onto the jeans that lay nearby.

"Sam?" a choked whisper floats back towards him, "What're you-?"

"Ssshhh…" He hisses in the dark, quieting Dean's voice but his brother's body, alert, alive, is painfully aware of every move, every breath Sam makes. Exposure causes the excited flicker of before to become more, the smell of the oil enhances it, growing it and Dean shifts uncomfortably, lying on the sudden hardening of his dick, his heart hammering in his chest, his breath catching on words that don't come, his tongue licking dry lips as he waits for more. He wonders how he looks in Sammy's eyes, naked and slippery, waiting for his brother's touch all over him and the thought makes him squirm on his erection, making it even bigger.

Sam reaches for the oil, his mind only on his brother's hot slick skin, opening up the bottle as an afterthought, tipping it over to allow little drips to hit Dean's ass, the smooth white cheeks twitching as each drop hits. Sam knows he should stop but can't - can't control his mind or his wants or his needs or his hands, which are reaching out of their own accord to rub oil all over Dean's ass, loving the feel of the firm muscles in his palms, squeezing and pushing, pulling and caressing.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice, a hot whisper, "What the hell's in that oil? It's making me feel-"

"I know, Dean. Me, too." Sam's voice sounds different to his own ears, low and husky, like warm whiskey, curling around the room as he continues to knead and rub Dean's beautiful skin, liking the way his brother's ass fits so well into his hands, like a second skin, like it's _supposed_ to be like this.

With a regretful sigh, he moves lower, working oil onto both of Dean's thighs, inhaling the heavy scent, lavender and smoky juniper, bittersweet and full, images of lips, teeth and tongues twisting through Sam's brain, causing him to bite his lower lip hard, the pain bringing him back.

Sam rubs both legs at once, palms kneading the outer thighs, swirling his knuckles just under the ass cheeks before spreading his fingers, letting his thumbs sweep over the sensitive inner thighs, dipping deeper with each circle. With every dip of Sam's thumbs, his brother's legs relax, parting to allow access to the tender skin. As Dean's legs open, Sam lets his fingers roam, touching lower with each sweep of movement, the last touch skimming Dean's balls with his fingernails, causing his brother to jump and make an odd strangling sound. Sam moves on quickly, leaving Dean gasping on a now painfully throbbing cock, wondering if his brother really _did_ just touch his balls or if he's having some weird erotic dream.

Sam pushes Dean's legs apart so he can kneel between them and slowly, tenderly, runs his palms from the tops of Dean's thighs all the way down to his ankles and back. He follows the lines of the long muscles on Dean's right leg, working the outside flesh and down to the inside of his legs, knees and calves, kneading the hamstring muscles roughly, rolling the large tissue between his hands, fingers and thumbs ebbing and flowing, pushing and pulling until the muscle is pliable, flaccid in Sam's hands.

With no conscious thought, Sam gets off the bed and shucks off his jeans and shirt quickly, tossing them on top of his brother's, now wearing only his underwear…wanting to feel Dean's slick skin against his own. The heady smell of the spirit oil, rosemary and ginger mixed with damp, dark wood, buzzes his head worse than a swarm of bees ever could, until his senses are singing with it, filling him with a hunger that's not in his belly but in his mind and his heart and his loins. He's scared to death of it but can't stop touching Dean, doesn't want to stop-

He drips oil onto Dean's right foot, rubbing the sole and heel, working each toe before moving back to the ball of the foot, bearing down firmly, rubbing with thumbs and knuckles to ease the tension.

Contented soft grunts come from his brother, causing Sam to smile, knowing that he's the one making Dean relax, helping him to rest, making him _feel-_

Sliding up from his foot to the top of his thigh, Sam straddles Dean's calf, making sure to bump his naked skin on his brother's leg as Sam moves upward. He rubs back down again, all the way to Dean's toes. Two more long sweeps and Dean's leg moves easily, resistance gone.

Sam climbs between Dean's knees, touching his skin to his brother's whenever he can. Back up at the top of Dean's thighs, he kneads the oil into muscle, massaging outer thighs, then inner thighs, making sure to sweep his fingers closer and closer to Dean's balls with each stroke, finally grazing them lightly, causing Dean's hips to buck, pulling a gasp of pleasure from his chest. Sam works his way slowly down Dean's left leg, pushing and pulling, gripping and rubbing until all knots are gone and his brother's leg is flaccid, relaxed.

Sam moves down to Dean's left foot, slathering on more oil. Inhaling another deep breath, vanilla and thyme now, fresh and sharp, Sam feels his heart jump in his chest as he allows himself a long look at his brother's body, letting his eyes run slowly, lazily over the muscular back, the delicious hips and ass, the long, firm thighs, the calves, _Jesus, he's so fucking beautiful _fleeting through his head.

Sam bites down on his lip again so hard he draws blood, forcing his eyes back to Dean's foot, kneading the ball and heel, letting his long firm fingers work their way into sore overused muscles, pulling and rolling each toe before sweeping back up the leg one last time.

Sam sits back on his haunches for a second, looking over his brother's glistening, gleaming, incredibly perfect body, takes a deep breath and climbs off the bed, standing to the side, looking down at Dean who hasn't said a word other than grunt and groan with pleasure.

Swallowing over a dry lump in his throat, Sam is pulled in two directions, continue or quit now, neither of which is making him feel very comfortable but only one of which makes any sense to his heated body. He makes his decision swiftly, throwing caution to the wind and kneels, whispering in Dean's ear, "Roll over."

Dean lifts his head and looks into Sam's eyes searchingly. Sam touches his cheek softly and whispers, "Please, Dean, roll over…I need to finish this."

Without a word, Dean turns over in the bed, adjusting the pillow under his head and watching Sam's every move. Sam's eyes wander over his brother's body, seeing a silhouette of Dean's erection in the dark, passing it over quickly because the feelings that rise up in Sam's gut are too much, intense and _huge, _and Sam is afraid.

To cover his swift rush of emotions, he stays on his knees in the dark, on the floor next to the bed and pours more oil into his hand, wet moss, clove and cedar filling his senses. He takes Dean's left hand and begins rubbing the palm with gentle circles, moving to the fingers, giving each one a massage, pulling on the knuckles gently.

Stroking Dean's forearm softly, Sam loses himself in the rhythm, kneading, prodding, pulling, pushing, moving to the upper arm, caressing the biceps, feeling the muscle twitch under his fingers, using his palm to roll around it, relaxing and releasing the tension in the tissue. He gently puts Dean's arm back on the bed, arranging it above his head.

He stands, knees popping and rounds the bed to kneel on Dean's other side, massaging the other hand and arm, working the fragrant oil into his brother's rough palms and fingers, rubbing his forearm and upper arm with gentle strokes. Gripped by the sudden urge to press Dean's hand to his lips, Sam fights it, holding himself rigid, concentrating on breathing in and out until he gets control back.

He stands, puts Dean's arm above his head gently, and picks up the oil, dribbling it onto Dean's chest, gleaming drops twinkling in the candlelight. Another deep inhale, lemon grass and jasmine in the rain, and he's smearing the balm all over Dean's throat and down, over his sculptured pecs and ribs, fingertips running feather light over his brother's nipples, his touch causing a shuddering breath out of Dean along with a whispered, "_Jesus, Sam-._"

Sam smiles at the reaction, moving his hands over his brother's abdomen, tickling over the cut of each sharply defined muscle, smoothing the skin, gently kneading the area around Dean's belly button and pushing up towards his ribs, soothing away any tightness that still exists.

Sam lets his hands sweep out in a circle, fingers lightly tapping Dean's hip bones and lower abdomen, ruffling the soft hair there. In the dark, Sam sees the reaction in Dean's cock, lengthening and hardening with each soft touch of Sam's warm hands. With no conscious thought, Dean groans in the back of his throat, thrusting his hips upwards slightly towards Sam, towards those wonderful hands that have made him feel so good, so _damn_ good….

Sam trails a finger down over Dean's hip bone and lower, onto his upper thigh, watching his brother tremble wherever he touches. He pours more oil onto Dean's legs, this time dipping his head low so he can catch the full heady scent of the oil mixed with Dean's muskiness, sweat mixed with woodsy savory, sweet lily and mint, making Sam want to bury himself in the wonderful smell.

Sam closes his eyes, trying to breath through it but losing control this time, rubbing his cheek lightly on his brother's lower belly, so close to Dean in body but wanting, _needing_ to be still closer, to get inside his brother and find out where this smell, this wonderful, delicious smell is coming from.

With a half-sob, Sam wrenches himself upward and away, taking in whuffs of air to clear his head, his hands automatically moving to Dean's thighs, circling and swirling the oil around the skin, working the thick muscles in time to a rhythm in his mind.

His thumbs roll in small whorls, pushing deep, feeling for knots, following the bands of tissue across Dean's quads, dragging up and away with his palms and then down again, sweeping across the thighs and down to the knees, letting his fingertips play over his brother's inner thighs lightly, feathering over the sensitive tendons, making Dean's legs shake, realizing with a start that Dean's whole body is quivering.

He looks up at his brother and sees Dean's eyes glittering back at him in the candlelight.

"Touch me." Dean grits out painfully, longingly, trying to stop his body from trembling but unable to, his nerve endings on fire from Sam's touch and that fucking incredible lotion Sam's been rubbing all over him, making him hot and cold at the same time, making his cock throb with want, with need for Sam to just fucking _touch_ him already, grab his dick and just take him there, make him come till he doesn't even know his own name. It's all Sam, always has been Sam, filling his heart and his every waking thought…

"Dean, I-" Sam's voice falters, his eyes huge, "I don't know how-" he spreads his hands wide, not knowing what to do, how to touch…

"Sam, please" Dean begs, actually begs and isn't he just going to be pissed off at himself in the morning when he remembers that but now, nothing matters, it's all so _right-_

Now Dean's sitting up, scooting over on the bed and tugging on Sam's hand, dragging his brother down to lie next to him, his lips close to Sam's ear as hot and moist, he whispers "please touch me…" pushing Sam's hand down, guiding it to his cock.

As Sam's long fingers wrap around the base, Dean's eyes close, his head falls back and his brother's hand feels good, so good-

"That's it. Now. Sam, Jesus, come _on-_" lifting his hips against Sam's fist but Sam isn't moving his hand, just sits there, looking scared, holding him and Dean is pumping against his hand until frustrated, he reaches down, grips Sam's still, limp hand and moves it up and down on his throbbing length until Sam finally gets a clue and starts to do it on his own.

As Sam runs his thumb over the tip and lightly caresses the slit on top, Dean can forgive him his slow start cause now, he's causing Dean's belly to hum with a slow-burning fire. It catches Dean off-guard, the build up to _firefirefirefire _and before he knows it, his legs are jerking, he's moaning and begging, dammit yes, _pleading_ with his brother to just move his fucking hand faster!

"Fuck, Sam, just _do_ it already-" and Sam scrapes his nail gently down the vein underneath Dean's cock, getting a husky bark from Dean's throat and an arching of his back. Sam tightens his grip, moving his fist slowly up and down, loving that Dean is beyond control and at the mercy of Sam's hand.

Drinking in every expression skittering across Dean's face, Sam moves his hand faster now, touching Dean the only way he knows how, like he touches himself…

He bends his head, lips finding Dean's pulse pounding in his neck and he kisses and licks at it, moving his mouth up to Dean's ear, whuffling into it with hot breath, nipping at his earlobe, feeling Dean's body respond to him immediately. Dean grips Sam's thigh tightly with his hand, eyes closed, gasps coming in a steady stream now.

"God, Sammy-" and Dean's hips are thrusting into his brother's palm as fast as he can and he's wide open and raw, unable to hide and Sam falls totally in love with his brother right then.

He jerks Dean's cock harder now and feels his brother's orgasm coming, through the stiffening of Dean's body, the hotness of his dick in Sam's hand and finally the throbs and contractions as Dean comes, spilling onto Sam's hand and his own belly. Sam jerks his brother for a few more seconds, milking him dry, until he's spent, finished, gasping for breath.

Slowly, Dean recovers, staring up at his brother's face in the darkness. Nervous, Sam wipes his hand on the sheet and looks away, unable to meet Dean's eyes but instead, keeps his head down, bangs hanging over so he's hidden.

"Holy shit, Sam" Dean mutters.

"Dean, I'm sorry, I don't know what-" Sam shakes his head, refusing to look at Dean and starts to stand, turning away, his own erection unsatisfied, painful. Dean sees the tent of Sam's underwear and reaches out, grabbing his brother's arm tightly.

"Dean-" Sam's close to tears, ashamed and scared and freaked out and horny and wanting his brother to touch him but he can't voice it, can't ask it, can't let Dean see how much he wants, nope, needs him.

"Sammy."

"Dean, just, let me go. I have to, go to the bathroom, please-" his voice breaks.

"No, Sam. No." Dean's grip on Sam's arm is iron, "You stay here, right here, with me." he says, firmly pulling him back onto the bed and reaching down, rubbing the outside of Sam's shorts with his strong fingers, gripping the throbbing dick under the white cotton. Sam's sharp inhale tells Dean that Sam wants this as much as he does.

"Look at me-" Dean whispers and Sam closes his eyes for a moment, working up the courage, scared of what he'll see but needing to know if Dean hates him now or worse, is sickened by what's happening.

Sam slowly raises big brown eyes to his brother's and sees, not disgust or revulsion, but a deep love for Sam and a glint of mischief twinkling.

Dean gives his best smirk to put Sam at ease, "Sammy, you gotta lose the underpants or I can't help you out."

"You sure?" the question trembles, rejection by Dean his worst fear.

In answer, Dean tugs at Sam's shorts until his brother raises his hips and, with a yank, Sam's underwear joins the clothes on the floor. Sam blushes as his cock pops out, engorged and throbbing and Dean whistles in appreciation, making the blush much worse.

Embarrassed, Sam tries to hide, grabbing a blanket to cover himself but Dean pulls it off firmly, shaking his head, pushing it away with a flick of his wrist. He upends the bottle of oil, letting drops fall gently onto Sam's chest and swirling it around with hot fingers. He inhales the smell, chamomile, tarragon and Sam, all rolled into one incredibly heady aroma.

"Jesus, this stuff smells so _good-_" Dean's words spreads warmth in Sam's belly even as his fingers and hands continue to smooth the oil onto his brother's pecs and nipples, lingering there to flick the nubs into hardening.

"Dean." Sam chokes out, his voice trusting and soft, full of promises in the dark.

Moving his palm over Sam's abs, he rubs the firm six-pack, enjoying the feeling of the hard cut muscles, the trembling underneath that grows with each shaky breath. Dean circles down over Sam's belly button and lower still, tickling the silky hairs below. Sam grunts low in his throat when Dean wraps his fingers around the top of his dick, running his thumb over the top and down, under the head, skittering along the vein underneath with a fingernail.

Tightening his hand, Dean gives a smooth pull up with the flick of his wrist and down again, making Sam's hips jerk.

Another pull all the way up Sam's length brings more grunts and a whispered "_fuck, _Dean-" as Sam's fists clench the sheets, unable to hold his body still under his brother's caresses.

Dean pauses and leans towards Sam, close to his ear and whispers him a question.

Sam's eyebrows shoot upwards and he nods wordlessly, spit gone from his mouth, his limbs trembling in anticipation.

Sam mouths, "You sure?", kissing Dean's shoulder before resting his chin on it, looking at his brother's face and feeling such a swell of love in his heart, he's afraid it will break him.

Dean looks at him, his love shining in his eyes, before he reaches out to cup Sam's chin and he asks, "Do you love me?"

"God, yes-"

"Me too, Sammy. It's like it's supposed to be-" Lost for words, Dean trails off.

Sam continues, "Like this, Dean, like all of a sudden, everyone else before was just, I don't know, gray and now-"

"Technicolor, right? Like nothing else was real and this, this is finally…it."

"It." Sam finishes, nodding in agreement.

Dean smiles, studying his brother's beautiful eyes and moves in, bumping Sam's face with his, "I'm sure.", pouring oil on Sam's fingers and opening his legs.

Sam rubs Dean's ass cheeks gently before dipping in between to smear the spirit oil, the hot slick awesome smelling oil, onto his opening. Working in one long finger, he moves it in a circle, causing his brother's breath to catch in his throat, a single word strangling out, "_Fuck-_"

Another finger is added to the first and Dean tenses more, his small hole gripping Sam's digits tightly, warm and snug around them. Sam works his brother open slowly, making sure he's good and relaxed before adding a third finger, the oil slippery and hot, going slow, taking his time.

"Wait, Sammy…ahh…" Dean breaths through the burn, forcing himself to relax and suddenly, it feels good, better than good and it would feel so much better if Sam would just move his fingers a little. Dean begins to thrust down on his brother's hand and Sammy, to his credit, steps right up to the plate, moving his fingers in and out slowly, letting his brother set the pace, seeing Dean's pleasure in his eyes and mouth, as the candlelight flickers over his face.

Sam pulls out his fingers and moves on top, pushing Dean's legs out of the way, positioning himself carefully.

Sam slicks the oil onto his cock and pushes in slowly, tenderly. Dean lets out his breath in a rush, giving a small moan as he feels himself stretch, the pain burning into him.

"You ok?" Sam asks quickly.

Dean nods tensely, gritting his teeth against the pain, "Keep going."

Sam drives forward a little more, stopping when his brother's body goes taut at the intrusion and he waits, giving Dean time to adjust, to relax himself.

But Dean doesn't want to wait, it's taking too long and he wants, no, _needs_ to feel his brother filling him up, going as deep as he can.

With frustrated hands, he pulls at his brother's hips, "Sammy, just _do_ it! I want to feel you, inside me, man, so just do it already! This slow shit is killing me-"

"Are you-?" Sam begins.

"YES, I'm fucking sure! Just, for the love of God, SAM, please, do it!"

With that, Sam draws back and slams his full length into Dean, tight muscles holding him fiercely, making it impossible to move. Dean can't speak, his breath whooshes out of gritted teeth and Sam pulls out his entire length and pushes in again, all the way to the hilt. The third time, Dean gasps as his brother hits his prostate with a mighty thrust and the fourth, Dean is moving his hips up, helping Sam get in deeper, making animal noises in the back of his throat. Together, they fall into a rhythm, moving as one mind, one body, taking each other higher then they've ever been before.

Dean reaches up, grabbing Sam around the neck and pulling him down for a sweet kiss that waxes and wanes in time to Sam's thrusts. He shoves his tongue into Sam's mouth, sensuously rolling and tasting his brother, exploring him. When they break for breath, Sam pulls back and shoves again, driving his cock home. Grunting, Dean runs his hands over Sam's nipples, pulling and twisting them until Sam thinks he'll shoot his load right there.

Sam grabs for Dean's cock, heavy and full again, throbbing between them, and drags his hand up and down the length quickly, snapping his wrist and gripping tightly, wanting them to reach it together, to come together-

Sam holds his orgasm back, waiting for his brother, not wanting this to end, loving the feel of Dean's tightness gripping him but he can't stop it, can only pump into his brother harder, forcing Dean's breath out with every hit, until the fire in his belly spreads out, across his body.

Dean's yelp of pleasure hits then and Sam feels his brother's ass clench as he comes, sending Sam over the edge and he explodes, his body rigid, air hissing out of his clenched teeth as he thrusts into Dean, moving in and out to enjoy the final spasms, giving his brother the last dregs.

Exhausted, on shaky arms, he pulls out and falls next to his brother, hugging him close and burying his face into Dean's warm neck. Sam gives a satisfied sigh, feeling like this is the best place in the world to be and nothing could make him happier than where he is right now. Judging from the contented noises Dean is making, he's feeling the same way.

Sam feels his brother smile against his face and opens one eye, 'What?"

Dean's eyes are twinkling as he raises an eyebrow at Sam before sitting up to retrieve blankets, spreading the warm fabric over their rapidly cooling bodies, "Now that's my kinda relaxation technique!"

Sam chuckles and pulls him down again, cuddling up close and warm, molding his body to Dean's, "I sure hope you can sleep now!"

"I think I can manage that, Sammy, but don't be surprised if I wake you up in the night for another massage. I think you got me hooked."

"Anytime, anywhere for you, Dean."

-end-


End file.
